


heads inside a dream

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nightmares, rvb15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: Mild RVB15 spoilers for episode 4.Carolina has reoccurring dreams. About who she wanted to be and who she is now.





	heads inside a dream

After Epsilon, after the media circus, after two new bases in the middle of nowhere, Carolina dreams the same dream for the third day in a row.

It’s an odd dream by her standards. In this dream, no one dies, no ghosts wait upon her doorstep and claw at the door. There is no mother leaving at the airport, there is no York floating in mid-air with his abandoned lighter, there is no Epsilon flickering as his final message plays on repeat. Instead, there is just a room. A white pure room with no windows and nothing in it. Nothing except herself.

Her other self stands in the middle of the room, parade rest, watching Carolina with green eyes that remind her of another ghost she put to rest. Her hair is longer, up in the ponytail she had during Freelancer, and her face is free of a few scars. She’s young, Carolina thinks whenever she sees her. Young and cocksure, and so determined to prove herself.

She curls her lip in disgust as she takes in Carolina, the woman who has put down her gun for good. Carolina with her tired eyes, and short hair, and less than perfect posture.

“What happened to you?”

Life, Carolina thinks. Life, loss and learning that the world wasn’t something she could always control. Her younger self steps forward and tilts her head, evaluating. She notices the civilian clothing, the lack of a gun on her person.

“Don’t tell me you quit.”

“No,” Carolina says. That isn’t right. Quit has different connotations than what she really chose. “I’m retired.” Her copy’s eyes grow wide. She shakes her head.

“You’re not even forty!”

Carolina knows that isn’t her younger self’s true problem. She cares little that she retired so young; she cares that Carolina retired at all. Back in Freelancer, Carolina was determined to fight till she dropped, to plant her grave on the battlefield just like her mother did before her. And she would have, if it wasn’t for colorful soldiers who showed her how to live otherwise.

“I was done.” She could bring up the leg injury, but it feels like a lie. It wasn’t the thing that made her stop after all.

“And what, got a place in Florida?”

Carolina thinks of a laugh under a blue helmet and shudders. She steps forward and puts her hand on her younger self’s shoulder. A gesture her mother often did for her.

“On a planet, actually. With friends.” She doesn’t have to force the smile that appears on her face. “It’s nice.”

The other woman shakes her hand off, a rough sudden motion. She steps back, then steps forward, getting in Carolina’s face.

“Nice? You gave up your career for nice?”

Carolina doesn’t flinch. When she speaks, her voice is tired. She can almost feel the lighter in her pocket, the phantom weight on her shoulder. “I gave them enough.”

“Enough?” Her younger self throws up her arms. “Enough for them maybe, but not for you. Not for us.” She takes a step back and looks at Carolina like she’s looking at a stranger. “You think that this - whatever this is, you think this is always going to be enough? That you won’t get bored of it all? That you won’t leave like you did last time?”

It says something about Carolina’s life, she thinks, that she doesn’t know which time the woman in front of her is talking about.

“I am you. I know you.” Her younger self says again, teeth bared. Over both her shoulders, phantom colored suits of armor appear, barely visible. More a flicker of light than anything. “You’ll be bored eventually. Just like all the other times. You’ll want more. You always want more.”

The A.I on her younger self’s shoulders become more visible. Carolina swallows and tries not to remember the pain that erupted through her skull when they were torn away. “It’s enough.”

Her younger self grins, the A.I over her shoulder a light blue and a deep blue. Her green eyes are all Carolina can focus on. The grin on her face is one she once saw on her mother’s face.

“You’re a Church. Nothing is ever enough.”

With that sentence, Carolina wakes up in a cold sweat, takes a deep breath, and clenches her fingers in her cot.

It is enough, she thinks, there in the darkness of her room.

It has to be enough.


End file.
